


Push And Pull With Me All Night

by GotTheSilver



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Casual Sex, Come Eating, Cunnilingus, F/M, Families of Choice, Fuckbuddies, Kid Fic, Knotting, Pregnant Sex, Unplanned Pregnancy, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-03
Updated: 2013-10-03
Packaged: 2017-12-27 00:37:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/972231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GotTheSilver/pseuds/GotTheSilver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It’s not exclusive, Derek occasionally fucks other people, and he’s sure Lydia does too.  Somehow it’s easy, and Derek doesn’t remember the last time he had something like this in his life.  He likes having someone who doesn’t need an explanation for his scenting, his marking.  Lydia knows it’s not possessiveness, understands that he enjoys being able to let out his wolf like this.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>It’s safe.  They’re always safe.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Until one day they’re not.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Push And Pull With Me All Night

**Author's Note:**

> title from The Rolling Stones - Loving Cup.

They fall into it when Lydia comes back to Beacon Hills for a weekend. Derek’s behind the bar when she walks in and he shakes his head when she spots him, a rueful smile on his face.

“Finally got an honest job?” she snarks, hopping on a stool at the bar, her eyes tracking him as he works his way down the bar towards her.

He spares her a look and smirks. “I don’t have a pack of teenagers to take up all my time now, do I?”

“Fair point.”

“What are you doing here, Lydia? I thought Boston was home for you now.”

“My mother’s birthday. She demanded I came home, and now she’s at the club with the rest of her divorced friends, which is a terrifying reminder of how I don’t want to turn out, so I’m here.”

He places a drink in front of her, vodka tonic with a lime wedge, and raises an eyebrow. “So you decided to come to this bar?”

“It’s the least awful of all the bars in town,” she says before taking a sip of her drink. “You remembered what I like.”

“Hard to forget,” he says, leaning forward on the bar, liking the way her eyes light up at his words. “Want anything else?”

Lydia smirks and shakes her head, long hair falling around her face. “I’m good.”

“Okay then.” Derek taps the edge of her glass and walks off, the back of his neck heating up as he feels her eyes travel down his body.

*

Lydia comes back to the bar the next night, clothes a little tighter, smile on her face a little wider, and Derek ducks his head to hide a smirk. He says hi and quickly gets back to work, occasionally glancing over at her as she holds court in a corner booth, old school friends who never left town gazing at her. It’s a lie to say she’s not beautiful, she is and she knows it. Derek can admire that. She catches his eye at one point before looking down at her drink, the twist of her lips obvious if you’re paying attention. Derek’s paying attention. It’s intriguing if nothing else, and he enjoys the way Lydia looks back at him every now and then.

He’s serving a customer when his phone vibrates in his pocket. It’s not until he’s stacking empties in the dishwasher that he pulls it out and looks at the screen.

[From: Stiles

Why is Lydia asking me if you’re worried about violating the bro code?]

[To: Stiles

I don’t know.]

[From: Stiles

Bullshit. I know she’s in Beacon Hills. You want to fuck her, fuck her. Promise I won’t hold it against you.]

Derek shakes his head and tucks his phone away without responding, a wry smile on his face. _Stiles_. He’s not holding out, and if he is, he’s not holding out for _that_ reason. Stiles hasn’t been interested in Lydia like that for years, Derek knows that, and Stiles knows he knows that.

When he looks up, Lydia’s at the bar, her red lips wrapped around a straw as she drains the last of her drink.

“Another?” he asks, already reaching for the vodka.

She shakes her head, boosting herself up onto a barstool. “If I have another, I’ll pass the line of acceptable drunkenness in public.”

Derek raises an eyebrow and puts the vodka back, leaning his forearms on the bar. It’s sticky against his skin, but there’s a challenge in Lydia’s eyes he can’t resist. “There’s a line?”

“There is. Especially when making certain decisions.”

Her face is tilted towards his and Derek can see the smudges of her mascara underneath her lower lids. It’s not the first time he’s seen her look less than perfect, but it still hits something inside him; that she’s come so far as to not worry about looking immaculate each time she’s in public. He clears his throat, eyes darting across her face. “What decisions?”

“You really asking me that, Hale?” Lydia says. “I think you know exactly what I mean.”

“Really?” Derek asks, leaning forward, the subtle scent of her perfume flooding his senses. Her lips are close, so close that it wouldn’t take much effort at all to—

“Thought you were smarter than this,” Lydia mutters and then her lips are on his, a tentative pressure that Derek barely recognises. If he’d given thought to it, he would’ve imagined her to be more insistent, more demanding, but instead she’s almost questioning if she’s allowed to do this. If _they’re_ allowed to do this.

Derek’s never been one for caring about the rules. He opens his mouth, lets himself taste her and she whimpers, her fingers slipping on the bar as she leans in. Strands of her hair fall against his face and Derek reaches a hand up, brushing the hair away and cupping her cheek, skin warm against his palm.

There’s a low hum of chatter and he’s suddenly aware that they’re doing this in public, that he’s meant to be _working_ , and he pulls away. When he licks his lips, there’s the faint chemical taste of Lydia’s lipstick and she subtly wipes away the smears around her mouth.

“Looks like you are smarter than that,” she says, still perched on the stool, still with that look in her eyes.

“Guess so.”

“How late are you working?”

“Late,” he smirks.

“Well,” Lydia says, hopping down from the barstool. “You have my number.”

*

Derek calls her the next day, he’s never understood the acting cool concept when it comes to someone he wants to fuck. They’re adults, they know what the deal is. Derek knows Lydia isn’t looking for an actual relationship, not with him anyway, so they could make this work.

He’s had arrangements with other people before, but not with someone who knows him. As much as Lydia knows him, anyway. It’s not like they’re particularly close, even after all these years, there’s still a distance between them. Derek thinks that’s probably for the best if they’re going to do this. He’s too close to everyone else he knows, has bonded with them in ways he never would’ve thought of, but Lydia—it’s never been like that with Lydia. They’ve always been different.

There’s a knock on his door and he knows it’s her, can hear her heartbeat, steady as it always is. When Derek opens the door, Lydia walks in. She waits all of five seconds before dropping her bag and launching herself at him, and it’s only his reflexes that keep them from toppling over. His hands slide under her ass, her skirt hiking up as she wraps her legs around his hips and—oh. “Stockings?” he says, hands toying with the straps on her garter belt.

“I thought you’d appreciate them,” she says, biting down on his bottom lip.

He chases her mouth as he walks them backwards, stumbling towards the bedroom. Lydia kicks her heels off, her mouth soft and sweet, on the verge of turning dirty. Reluctant to separate, Derek kneels on the edge of the bed and gently lowers her down, sprawling on top of her and running his fingers up her thighs. The rough lace of her garter sparks him out of his daze and he sits up, careful not to box her in. “This is what you came here for, isn’t it?”

Lydia rolls her eyes at him, her hair spread out over his pillows. “Yes, Derek. This is what I came here for.” Her quick fingers start unbuttoning her shirt, revealing a black lace bra. “The question is,” she says, pushing herself up onto her elbows. “What do you want?”

Derek’s distracted by the movement of her breasts as she moves, by the sight of her almost translucent skin, and he wants to touch, wants to get his mouth on her. Smirking down at her, he leans forward, their faces bumping against each other. “I want to fuck you,” he says quietly, revelling in the sudden scent of lust that sparks off her.

“Well then,” she says, her plush lips brushing against his. “Get to it.”

“Take your shirt off.”

“You too,” Lydia says as she slowly strips it off. Dropping her shirt over the side of the bed, she lies back down, hands roaming up Derek’s legs, and he groans involuntarily when she digs her fingers into his jean clad thighs. A wicked grin crosses her face and once he’s topless, Lydia goes for the zipper on his jeans, one hand briefly cupping his groin.

“Lydia—fuck.” Derek’s legs spread wider as Lydia tries to tug his jeans down.

“Jesus, Derek, do you paint these on?” Slapping his thigh, she shoves him a little. “Get off me.”

He rolls over and stares up at the ceiling, unable to stop laughing as Lydia swears loudly, her fingernails catching on his skin as she removes his jeans.

“Casual sex should _not_ be this much work.” She climbs up his body, her ass settling against his crotch. “Next time we do this, you’re going to be naked when I come over.”

“Next time?” Derek reaches up, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “You think this is going to be that good?”

Her lips press against his, too quick for Derek to return it. Lydia smiles, “I’m counting on it, Hale.”

She’s close enough for Derek to catch her by the neck, big hand tangled in her hair as he pulls her down, kissing her thoroughly; his tongue seeks out her taste, licking away the chemical sting of her lipgloss until it’s only her flooding his senses. Lydia lets out tiny, breathy whimpers that are completely at odds with the persona she presents to the world, and Derek lets himself feel smug at being able to wring those noises out of her. His hands travel down her body until his fingers are fiddling with the fastening at the back of her skirt.

When he finally gets it loose, the material floats down around her thighs and Lydia wriggles around until she’s able to kick it away. Derek has no idea where it ends up, his eyes too busy raking over Lydia’s body, captivated by the flush on her pale skin. Her hands are on his chest, fingers brushing through the hair he’s let grow back, tweaking a nipple and smirking in satisfaction when he squirms.

“Interesting,” Lydia says, wriggling on top of him.

“Oh really?” Derek breathes out, hands gripping her by the waist firmly as he flips them over with no effort. “How about now?” he asks, settling between her legs, kissing her stomach.

“Also interesting,” she says in a higher pitched tone as his fingers detach the straps of her garter from the tops of her stockings. Derek carefully rolls the delicate fabric down her legs, placing soft kisses against her skin as he goes, the scent of her arousal spurring him on.

Crawling back up her body, Derek rubs his thumbs against her hipbones, above the waistband of her panties. His face ducks down between her legs, the fabric already damp, and it only takes him lightly pressing his index finger there to make her gasp, her fingers gripping the sheets. Derek’s eyebrows raise slightly, smiling to himself. “You’re sensitive,” he says without thinking.

“Are you going to eat me out, or are you going to commentate?” Lydia groans.

“You’re cranky when you want to get laid, aren’t you?” Derek strokes her through her underwear, watching the way her legs twitch, listening to her heart rate pick up. It’s intoxicating in a way he never imagined it would be.

“So. Very. Cranky.” Lydia’s foot connects with his side and Derek can hear the smirk in her voice. “Take them off already, Derek.”

Derek can’t resist taking his time with this, her pulse spiking as he reaches up and slowly starts to pull her underwear down. Lydia pushes her hips up to help him along, her groin inches away from his face and he inhales, letting her scent fill his senses. He’s never been sure if it’s a werewolf thing—his need to know his partner’s scent—but he loves it. Loves knowing each and every part of them.

He finally works the panties off her and drops them on the floor before turning back to Lydia. She’s spread out on his bed, her skin a startling contrast against his dark sheets and he’s captivated, struck dumb by how much he wants her. There’s a question on Lydia’s face and Derek shakes his head, covers her body with his and kisses her; lets himself get lost in the play of their lips before he pulls away and starts to travel down her body.

Lydia’s writhing underneath him before he even gets his mouth anywhere near her cunt and it’s fucking fascinating. Derek’s never been with _anyone_ this eager, this needy, and there’s an idle part of his brain wondering how long it’s been for her. If it’s as long as it has been for him. He shifts his hips, rubbing his hard cock against the mattress as he inches down, enough to take the desperate edge off, before he grips Lydia’s thighs and pushes them apart.

She’s letting out these little _gaspsobs_ and it’s driving Derek crazy. He flattens his tongue against her, slowly licking her open, his fingers digging into her thighs in an effort to control himself. It takes a moment, but soon Lydia’s hands are reaching down, tangling in his hair and directing his movements. He likes that, appreciates that she’s not timid, not scared to show him what she likes. Derek goes with it, and when her grip in his hair gets weaker, he starts using his fingers, pushing two inside her and enjoying the way she clenches around him.

When he ducks back down, he lightly drags the tip of his tongue over her clit, making her thighs tremble and she swears under her breath. “Don’t be quiet,” Derek says. “I want to hear you.”

She laughs, like she’s never been told that before and Derek licks her again, the urge to hear all the noises no one else gets to hear coursing through his veins. Lydia’s wriggling on her ass, pushing herself down each time he fucks her with his fingers, sucking her breath in whenever he teases her clit. He can hear her heartbeat getting faster, can feel her start to fall apart underneath him and it’s incredible. Lydia’s hands are back in his hair, her fingers tightening, tugging hard as she comes, her thighs spasming around his head.

Wiping his mouth, Derek sits up and runs his eyes down her body. Lydia’s skin is flushed, her garter belt twisted and tangled around her waist. Derek palms his crotch and watches her chest rise and fall as she tries to regain her breath. Eyes fluttering open, Lydia hums happily and rolls her shoulders, stretching her arms above her head. She glances at where his hand is keeping up a firm pressure against his cock and raises an eyebrow. “Want to do something with that?”

“Condoms are in the drawer,” Derek says, pushing down his boxers and sliding them off, biting his bottom lip when his cock hits air. He can’t resist stroking himself a few times, rolling his foreskin back and grazing his thumb across the slit. Lydia slips out of her bra before she leans over, reaching into the drawer. Derek’s eyes follow the curve of her body as she pulls out a condom, crawling down the bed to him.

Her hands are soft against his thighs, and she ducks down for a moment, her tongue circling the head of his cock before she backs off. Easing the condom down his length, Lydia smirks as his cock pulses in her hand. Derek watches her move, trying to guess what she’s going to do. He knows better than to think she’ll lay back passively and he’s proven right when Lydia climbs onto his lap.

They both groan as she slides down, Derek pressing his face into her chest, mouthing at her breasts as she adjusts herself. “Oh fuck,” Lydia breathes out as he bottoms out, her nails scratching at his neck. “Derek—fuck.”

He can’t get any leverage like this, so he’s at Lydia’s mercy, waiting for her to move. Lydia’s hands are now firmly on Derek’s shoulders and she pushes herself up, sliding a few inches up before sinking back down. It’s intense, different to how these encounters usually go for Derek. There’s no urge to push her backwards, fuck into her hard and fast until they both get off. He likes it, enjoys the slow, almost lazy drag of his cock inside her. Enjoys the way Lydia takes a moment before she rises up again, like she’s savouring the feel of him.

Derek’s hands are slipping against Lydia’s back, her hair’s sticking to her skin and getting tangled between his fingers. He ducks his head, licking at her collarbone, down towards her breasts. Tongue circling her nipples, Derek sucks lightly, unable to resist the urge to mark her in some way. His mouth gets dislodged as Lydia speeds up her movements, her thighs trembling with effort, and Derek groans as he feels the familiar feeling pooling in his groin.

“I—close, Lydia.” Derek works a hand between them, fingers seeking out Lydia’s clit. She gasps, her fingernails digging into his flesh, little drops of blood seeping out, and Derek swears, intent on making her come before he does. It’s like a fight, she’s rolling her hips, clenching around him, but Derek’s never been scared to play dirty and he uses his abilities; senses her pulse speeding up, her breath getting laboured, and it doesn’t take much more before she comes, calling him a bastard as she does. Derek’s smug grin doesn’t last for long, the strength of her orgasm sending him over the edge, breathing into her hair, fingers pressing into her skin as he comes.

Lydia lifts her head and looks at him; her eyeliner is smeared, lipstick rubbed away, sweat covering every inch of her skin, and Derek grins. “What?” she asks, climbing off him carefully.

“You look good like that,” Derek says, removing the condom and tying it off, aiming it towards the wastebasket in the corner.

“Like what?” Lydia sits at the edge of the bed. “Well fucked?”

Derek grins and lies on his back, stretching his muscles out. “You said it.”

Rolling her eyes, Lydia stands up, unashamed in her nudity. “You lie there and feel smug. I’m taking a shower.”

“Hey, Lydia?” Derek calls when she’s at the door to the en suite.

“Yeah?”

“This was fun.”

“It was,” she says, with a genuine smile. “I’ll call you next time I’m in town.”

*

They carry on like that. It’s not exclusive, Derek occasionally fucks other people, and he’s sure Lydia does too. Somehow it’s _easy_ , and Derek doesn’t remember the last time he had something like this in his life. He likes having someone who doesn’t need an explanation for his scenting, his marking. Lydia knows it’s not possessiveness, understands that he enjoys being able to let out his wolf like this.

It’s safe. They’re always safe.

Until one day they’re not.

*

It’s close to the full moon when Lydia comes back for Christmas. Derek _knows_ better than to give into his instincts when he’s days away from running, but when Lydia looks at him, sees the way he’s closer to wolf than man and says “we don’t have to use a condom if you—I know how you get at this time of the month,” Derek’s wolf howls.

“We can’t risk it,” he says, his head nuzzling against her palm where she’s stroking her fingers through his hair.

“I’m on the pill,” Lydia says. “And you can’t carry anything.”

“That’s not—nothing is 100% safe, Lydia, you know that.”

Lydia tugs sharply on his hair, forcing him to look at her. “I know that. I do know that. Derek, I.” She breaks off and shakes her head, narrowing her eyes at him. “Why are you trying to talk me out of this?”

“Because there are very real consequences.”

“Derek. I want to do this.” Lydia runs a finger down his nose, grazing it against his lips and he darts his tongue out, licking slightly. She smirks down at him. “I know you want it as well.”

He does. All of his instincts are screaming at him to hold Lydia down, to take her and Lydia—she’s never been passive before—in the time they’ve been doing this, she’s never wanted this. Derek rolls over and kneels, puts his hands on her thighs and pushes her onto her back. “Good boy,” she grins.

“No dog jokes,” he says firmly, creeping up her body, covering it with his, and wrapping his hands around her forearms. They’re already naked and Derek’s cock is hard and heavy between his legs. He kisses her hungrily, like he never has before and Lydia hitches her legs up, curling them around his body, rocking up against him. Derek’s grip on her forearms tightens and he swallows the gasp she makes, biting down on her lip. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” he says.

Lydia nods, her eyes bright, no hesitation in her scent. He’s barely hanging onto the little control he has, and he needs to do this, needs to be inside her. Cock grazing against her opening, Derek gets onto his knees and hauls her towards him. Holding himself, he teases her, rubbing the head of his cock against her clit, sliding it against her until she whines, her hands fisting in the sheets.

“Derek, _please_ ,” she cries out, her voice ragged.

A low growl emanates from his throat as he pushes in, and he’s having to use all his concentration to control his claws and his fangs. Having Lydia beneath him, all heated skin and soft noises, is helping ground him but he knows that he’s not going to last. There’s no barrier between them, and it’s been a long time since Derek has done this. He’s never risked it with a woman before, not wanting to take the chance that he’d get a stranger pregnant. Not when there was a chance it would be like him.

It’s so new, so overwhelming—the moon cycle and the feel of Lydia like this, and Derek’s hips keep going, pushing into her again and again. Lydia’s loud, begging for more, her fingernails digging into his arms and it makes him more desperate. He’s aching for release, and with one last thrust, he comes, pushing into Lydia and holding himself inside her. There’s an unfamiliar sensation at the base of his cock and he looks down. “Fuck,” he whispers.

“What? What’s going—” Lydia looks up at him and shifts her hips, groaning slightly. “Derek. Why does it feel like your dick is swelling?”

“I. _Fuck_. I didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know what? What is—wait. Do you. Is that your _knot_?” she asks, eyebrows raised.

“I didn’t know I had one.”

“How could you not know?” Lydia says, an air of hysteria in her voice. “This isn’t a weird mate thing, is it? Because I don’t care what your wolfy parts think, I am _not_ your mate.”

“It’s not that,” Derek snaps. “It’s never happened before.”

“Then how do you know it’s not something to do with your wolf?”

“Because I know my wolf, Lydia. It’s nothing to do with mates, it’s the moon, it’s having sex without using a condom. It’s fucked up instincts I can’t control this close to the full moon.”

“Okay. Okay.” Lydia stares up at the ceiling. “How long is this going to last?”

“I don’t know.”

“You could at least get me off while we wait,” she says, wriggling a little, causing a slight tug on the knot and smirking when Derek lets out a moan.

Derek rolls his eyes and reaches down, uses everything he’s learnt about Lydia over the time they’ve been doing this to get her going. Teases her until she’s swearing at him and threatening to behead him if he doesn’t make her come. When she does, the pressure around his knot makes him come again, shooting inside her and Derek’s groaning, his mouth dropping open. “Are you,” he shifts a little, feeling his legs cramping up. “Do you need me to move?”

Lydia looks up at him in disbelief. “You _can’t_ move, Derek.”

“I didn’t mean—are you comfortable?”

“Aside from the knot in my vagina?” Lydia rolls her eyes. “I’m okay,” she says in a softer voice. “You?”

“I heal.”

“Not what I asked.”

“My legs are cramping,” Derek huffs. “It only lasts for a few seconds, I’ll be fine.”

“Such a martyr,” Lydia smirks. “How’s work?”

Derek raises an eyebrow at her. “Really?”

“What else are we meant to talk about?”

“I got promoted,” Derek says, absently rubbing a hand against her stomach. “Weekday manager.”

“That get you laid more often?”

“Actually, no. I spend more time in the office than I do behind the bar.”

Lydia laughs, placing a hand over his. “All the responsibility, none of the fun, right?”

“Apparently that’s what growing up is.”

“It’s a good look on you,” she says, her eyes looking him over. “You’ve got a lot better, Hale.”

Derek nods, shifts his legs a little and the tug around his knot is a little looser. “I think—” he tries to pull out, but it makes Lydia hiss. “Okay, maybe not yet.”

“Warn me next time you try that.”

“Sorry.”

There’s a comfortable silence for a while, Derek traces invisible patterns on Lydia’s body as they wait for the knot to go down. She holds his hand, placing kisses against his knuckles. If there’s one person Derek could’ve chosen to accidentally knot, well... he probably wouldn’t have picked anyone, but this, with Lydia, isn’t bad. It’s not _awkward_ , anyway, which is the best Derek could hope for.

“Has it gone down?” Lydia asks, ten minutes later. She squirms a little. “I can feel, um, leakage?”

“That’s classy, Lydia,” Derek smirks.

“You want to talk about class when you accidentally _knotted_ me?”

Derek can’t help laughing as he pulls out of Lydia, wincing a little at the mess they’ve managed to make of the sheets. “Happy now, princess?” he teases.

“Happier when I’ve had a shower,” she says, glancing between her legs.

“Can I—” Derek’s nose flares at the smell of his come mixing with her scent. He gently pushes her backwards, slipping between her legs. “Is this okay?” he asks, waiting until she nods before he starts to lick at her thighs, tasting his own come. He works his way up each of her legs, his fingers gently teasing her clit until his mouth reaches her entrance. Sliding his tongue inside her, curling it slightly, he moans at their combined taste. It’s a heady mix and Lydia’s writhing, her thighs pressing against his head as she comes. Derek doesn’t let up, clamps a hand on her hip and holds her there as he continues eating her out, chasing each drop of his own come. She’s shaking, pulling at his hair and it doesn’t take long before she comes again, yelling out his name.

“Holy fuck, Derek,” she says weakly, hands petting his head.

Resting his head against her thigh, Derek smiles. “Thought you were going to shower?”

“Shut up, you ass,” Lydia laughs. “I’ll shower when I can walk again.”

“You said I should get you off,” he protests.

“Shut up.”

*

Derek’s in the office at work, going through the takings from the night before, when his phone vibrates in his pocket. It’s Lydia, which makes him frown. He knows she’s not in town, won’t be for at least another month, so he’s a little confused when he answers the phone.

“Hi.”

“Hi? That’s what you have to say to me?”

“Uh,” Derek shakes his head. “I—what?”

“Apparently the pill doesn’t work when you get _knotted by a werewolf_ ,” she hisses down the line and, oh fuck.

Derek is really glad he’s sitting down. “Are you saying you’re pregnant?”

“Yes. Yes, according to all the tests I could buy in the pharmacy, I am incubating a bunch of cells that are half yours.”

“Are you okay?”

“Am I—” Lydia laughs before she gets really quiet. “I don’t know,” she says in a small voice. “This isn’t part of the plan, Derek. For either of us.”

“I know. I—come back this weekend. We’ll talk, okay?”

“There’s no point in me saying no, is there?”

“You can say no, Lydia, but do you really want to talk about this over the phone?”

“No. I’ll come back. Mom’s emergency credit card has to have some use, right?”

Derek sighs and rubs a hand against his face. “Have you told anyone else?”

“Only you. I don’t—it’s no one’s business until we decide what we’re going to do.”

“Okay. Send me your flight details, I’ll pick you up.”

“You don’t have—”

“Yes, I do.”

Lydia sighs. “Thanks, Derek.”

They say their goodbyes and Derek sits there, staring into space for a good 15 minutes. He’s giving serious thought to asking Deaton or Stiles if time travel is possible, if he can go back and make himself wear a condom so that he doesn’t have to deal with this. It’s Lydia’s choice, he knows that, and he’ll support her whatever she wants to do, but there’s an ache in his chest that screams family and pack. He doesn’t know how to make that ache go away.

He doesn’t know if he wants it to go away.

*

Lydia’s quiet on the drive from the airport. She’s perfectly made up, her hair is tied in a loose bun, delicate strands falling around her face and she’s curled up in the passenger seat, her legs tucked under her. Derek opens the car door for her when they make it back to his apartment, holds her hand in the elevator and ushers her inside.

“Do you want anything?” he asks, putting her bag by the couch, watching her sit down.

“Water?”

When he returns, bottled water in hand, she’s kicked her shoes off and crossed her legs. “Here,” he says, handing her the bottle.

“Thanks.” Lydia smiles at him. “You can sit down, Derek. I’m not going to hit you.”

“I’d deserve it,” he mutters, joining her on the sofa.

“Okay, now I might hit you. Do you not remember that the whole thing that lead to this situation was my idea? Because it was. I told you I wanted it.” She looks away, eyes flitting across his bookshelves. “If you want to assign blame, then at least give me half of it.”

Derek smirks despite himself and shakes his head. “Are we going to talk about it?”

“I don’t know what to do,” she says, pulling her knees up and resting her cheek on them.

“What do you want to do?”

“I want to graduate and be the first woman to win a Fields Medal,” Lydia says, her eyes fixed on him. “A baby... that wasn’t in the plan.”

Derek nods and, without thinking about it, he reaches over and pulls Lydia into his arms. She goes with him willingly, pressing her face against his chest and breathing in. “Whatever you choose, I’m here for you. No matter what.”

“What do you want?” she asks quietly. Lydia’s hand grazes against his forearm and Derek turns his hand over so she can link their fingers together.

“It’s not my choice, Lyds.”

“I’m asking you.” Lydia squeezes his hand, tilting her head to look at him. “Tell me.”

“I—” he breaks off and sighs heavily. “My instincts, they’re not rational. They want a child, knowing that there is a possibility of a child—I’m not asking you to do anything. I would never ask you to have this baby if you don’t want to.”

“Derek, I know that. Can you do something for me?”

“What?”

“Put aside your instincts, as much as you can, and tell me what you want.”

“I can’t—”

“Try.” Lydia’s voice is firm, leaving no room for argument, and Derek sighs, squeezing her hand in silent agreement.

“I want a kid,” he says eventually. “I never thought about it in a real sense. It wasn’t—I didn’t think I would have the chance.”

“Okay.” Lydia sits up, tucking her legs underneath her, their hands still linked together. “I thought about this on the flight. I don’t want to be a mother. But you. You want to be a dad.”

“I’m not asking you to—”

“I know you’re not,” she says with a small smile. “I know you’d never dream of asking. Which is why I want to do this. I worked it out on the plane; I’ll be finished with this school year before the end of the second trimester, so I can be back in Beacon Hills for the last part. We both know when conception happened, so I’ll miss some school at the beginning of the next year, but I can talk to them and it’s me, I’ll catch up and—”

“Lydia, Lydia, stop.” Derek holds out a hand and shakes his head. Her face is open, her jaw set determinedly, like she won’t change her mind, but Derek—he can’t believe that she wants to do this for him. He lets go of her hand and holds her by the wrist, his fingers against her pulse because he _has_ to be sure. Derek’s not stupid, he’s fully aware that Lydia does what Lydia wants, but he needs to know that she wants to make this choice. “Tell me again.”

She rolls her eyes, but humours him anyway. “Derek, I want to have this baby for you. I don’t want to be a mother. I want you to be a dad. Now let go of my wrist.”

Derek laughs, but instead of dropping her wrist, he tugs gently until she gets the message and moves over to him. She’s still as light as ever as she curls up on his lap, her head resting against his shoulder, sighing softly when he wraps his arms around her. “When do you want to tell people?”

“Spring break? Everyone will be home and, I know it’ll probably be a werewolf, so we shouldn’t have to worry, but we’ll be past three months by then. It’ll be safe.”

*

The next three months pass Derek by quicker than he ever expected. He can’t tell anyone why he suddenly stops in the middle of the sidewalk and stares at kids playing in the park. Mostly he’s grateful no parent has spotted him and reported him to the sheriff’s department for it. There’s a folder of bookmarks in his web browser filled with links to reviews of car seats, cribs and stimulating baby toys. When he tells Lydia this over Skype, she laughs and tells him she expected nothing less.

Lydia updates him constantly, sends him detailed emails about her morning sickness (“why are there always carrots in puke?”), tells him that her roommate thinks she’s always hungover (“my reputation is suffering, Derek!”), and it helps with the distance. He wants to be there with her, but she’s insistent that she can cope, and Derek doesn’t want to push. She says that she’ll wait until she’s back in Beacon Hills to have the first scan, says that it’ll be a little late but she doesn’t trust anyone but Melissa to do it, and Derek selfishly agrees because he wants to be there for it.

Wants to be there to hear his baby’s heartbeat.

*

Somehow Derek manages to get the whole pack to agree to come home, enough of their different Spring Breaks overlap that there’s a weekend where the ones at school will all be back in Beacon Hills. Lydia arrives early, curling up on the couch and taking a nap, one arm curled around her stomach. It does something to Derek, stirring the instincts inside him, wanting to keep her warm, comfortable and fed.

He’s sitting opposite her—only half paying attention to the book in his hands—when she stirs, stretching her legs out and yawning.

“No one here yet?” she asks, turning on her side and looking at him.

“Not yet.” Derek closes the book and places it on the floor. “They’ll be here in about an hour. Do you need anything?”

“I’m good.”

Derek nods, eyes glancing at her slightly rounded stomach. It’s not showing much, but it’s there and he clenches his fingers, trying to suppress the urge to touch her.

“What’s the matter?” she mumbles, twisting a lock of hair around one finger.

“I want—can I touch you?”

“Touch? Oh,” she sits up, not taking her eyes off him. “Yes. Of course you can.”

He’s next to her in a flash, staring at her stomach, his hand hovering over her shirt. Rolling her eyes, Lydia grabs his hand, pushes up her shirt and places his hand on the bump and— _fuck_. There’s an instant connection, and Derek knows it’s the wolf part of him making it happen because it’s too early to feel anything, but there’s something and he sucks in a breath. “It’s going to be a werewolf,” he says quietly.

“What? You can tell that?”

Derek strokes his fingers against her skin, hunkering down on the couch so he can rest his face against her. “My mom, when she was pregnant with Cora, my parents knew she’d be a wolf. She knew when my cousins weren’t wolves. I don’t know how she knew, but I know. I can tell.”

“Huh,” Lydia says, one hand stroking through his hair. “Okay.”

“Does it bother you?”

“Don’t be a moron. I knew there was a chance it would be like you.” Lydia scratches his scalp. “It’s good. I’m glad you’ll have a kid the same as you.”

*

Derek leans against the wall and looks around the room. The pack are scattered; Allison and Scott on the couch with Lydia, Stiles on a cushion on the floor, Boyd in the armchair with Erica sprawled sideways across him, and Isaac and Cora are perched on stools at the breakfast bar, stuffing food in their mouths. He has no idea how to start talking about this, but when he glances over at Lydia, she sends him a small smile and he nods.

“There’s a reason I asked you all to come over,” he says, voice carrying over everyone’s chatter. They quiet down and Derek swallows, staring at the bookcase across the room. “Lydia, uh. Lydia’s pregnant. The baby’s mine.”

There’s dead silence in the room when Derek finishes speaking.

“Of course the two hottest people in Beacon Hills are reproducing,” Stiles says, finally, breaking the silence and waving a hand in the air. He twists his body around to look at Lydia. “You okay?” he asks.

Lydia nods, a pleased smile on her face. “I’m fine now that I’ve stopped throwing up all the time,” she says. “You should all know that I’m not going to be involved with the baby.” She looks around the room, leaning into Allison slightly when she puts an arm around Lydia’s shoulders. “I don’t want to be a mother, but Derek wants to be a dad, and that’s why I’m doing this. All I’m going to be to this kid is Aunt Lydia.”

“Are you sure?” Allison asks.

“I’m really sure,” Lydia replies. “This is how it’s going to be. We both want it to be like this.”

“First pack baby,” Scott says, grinning over at Derek. “That’s pretty cool.”

The room erupts in excited conversation and Derek relishes in it, the feeling of family rushing through his veins. He’s not even that worried about Erica discussing when the baby will be old enough for fight training, or Stiles asking out loud if brooding is an inherited trait. Cora slides up next to him and brushes her shoulder against his arm. “You’re happy,” she says.

“Yeah.”

“It’s a good look on you.”

Derek laughs at the reluctant compliment from his little sister and wrestles her into a headlock, ignoring her squawks of protest as he drags her to the ground.

*

There are very few important moments in Derek’s life that he could class as good. Most have been traumatising, things he doesn’t ever want to dwell on. Standing in a private room at the hospital, watching the tiny shape on a screen and hearing the fast thud of a heartbeat passes ‘good’ by a long distance. Derek doesn’t think he has words for it.

“Do you want a copy?” Melissa asks him as she wipes up Lydia’s stomach.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “Please.”

Lydia looks up at him and touches his hand. “You okay?”

Derek nods his head slowly. “It’s real.”

“No shit,” she says.

“It’s hearing the heartbeat. That, for werewolves, it means something.”

Melissa watches them both as she packs away the equipment. “It means something to all parents, Derek.” There’s a wry smile on her face as she carries on. “You think that means something, just wait until they’re waking you up at 3am screaming.”

“Still want to do this yourself?” Lydia says to Derek with a smirk.

“I do,” he says, as Melissa hands him a printout of the scan. “I really do.”

*

From what Derek can tell, Lydia gets hyper organised when she goes back to school. By the time they talk via Skype, she’s already arranged everything she needs to and Derek’s a little in awe at how quickly she’s managed to sort it all out. He hasn’t even bought a crib. When she stands sideways in front of the webcam and shows him how large the bump is now, Derek’s face breaks into a wide smile before he’s suddenly struck with panic.

“Derek? What is it?” Lydia asks when she sits back down and sees the look on his face.

“I need to buy things.”

“Um. Okay.”

“No, I need a crib, and toys and clothes and _everything_.”

Lydia bites her bottom lip and Derek knows she’s trying not to laugh at him. “Derek, you’ve got time. I know I look huge, but I’m only 16 weeks.”

“You don’t look huge.”

“Oh yes I do. I’m trying not to think about how big this kid is going to be by the time it’s ready to come out because I’ll pass out.”

“You’ll be fine.”

“Are you the one who will be pushing something out of one of your orifices? No. So be quiet.”

Derek snorts and holds his hands up in surrender. “Okay, I give in.”

“As you should.” She looks over her shoulder for a moment before facing the webcam again. “You are allowed to go shopping, Derek. I might not want to be involved, but you don’t have to hide this from me, okay? I’m not leaving the pack after it’s born, I’m going to be around. I _want_ to be around. This kid is going to have you wrapped around it’s finger, you think I’m going to miss that?”

“You have so much faith in me,” Derek says with a shake of his head.

“I do,” Lydia says seriously. “I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t.”

Derek nods his head, smiling slightly before they say goodbye. He lifts up the laptop and slouches down on the bed before placing it on his chest and opening up the webpages he’s got bookmarked. Since they were told about the pregnancy, the pack have been sending him links to things as well. Allison’s are all practical: cribs, prams, high chairs. Boyd sends tips from his mom, which Derek copies into a .doc and saves because he knows he’ll need them. Scott tends to err on the side of goofy toys, emails full of excited explanations about how Derek’s kid has to have this soft toy instead of this other one, and it makes Derek laugh. Stiles sends links to articles about baby developmental milestones, his emails scattered with questions about how he doesn’t know if they’re the same for werewolf babies, but it can’t hurt.

It’s how it should be, a new addition to the pack was always celebrated when he was growing up, and Derek loves that they’ve all taken to it so well. Cora’s gone back to the pack she’s been living with in Nevada, but she’s still his sister, despite her complicated pack ties. She’ll still be his kid’s aunt. Erica and Isaac stop by when they have time, despite Derek volunteering to pay their tuition, they both decided to work instead of going to school and have jobs in the next town over.

Melissa’s asked him about his support system once the baby arrives, but Derek knows if he needs his pack they’ll be here. He won’t ask, doesn’t want to tear them away from what will be the last year of school for some of them—he knows Lydia will carry on her studies, and maybe Boyd—but he likes knowing that their bonds are strong enough that he won’t _have_ to ask.

*

“Holy crap, Derek, what did you do?” Erica’s standing in the doorway, looking at the bags and boxes scattered across the apartment.

Derek lifts his head from an instruction booklet and glares at her. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Okay,” she says as she delicately weaves her way through the mess to sit in the armchair. “Because it kind of looks like you bought out a baby store.”

“I didn’t buy everything,” Derek says, dropping the instructions back in the box. “Babies need a lot of stuff.”

Waving a stuffed elephant in the air, Erica raises an eyebrow at him. “Uh huh.”

“Shut up.”

“Is there anything you didn’t buy?”

Derek looks around the room, whatever Erica thinks, he didn’t go overboard. He didn’t have anything before this, everything that could’ve been passed on burnt up in the fire. Staring at the things he’s bought, he suddenly, desperately, misses his parents. Fists clenching, he gets to his feet and walks into the kitchen, distracting himself by making coffee. He hears Erica take a deep breath before she even starts walking towards him.

“Derek?” She places a hand on his arm. “Are you—what’s the matter?”

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” he says, his head dropping. “I miss my parents.”

“That seems normal to me?” Erica reaches around him and grabs two mugs, bypassing the coffee and taking down the hot chocolate instead. “You’re going to be a dad, Derek. It makes sense you’d want your parents here for that.”

Leaning against the counter, Derek shakes his head. “It’s more than that. I never—I was a kid when Cora was born. I barely taught you, Boyd and Isaac anything about being a wolf. How can I—” He gets cut off when Erica slaps the back of his head and hands him a mug filled with hot chocolate. “What the hell, Erica?”

“Shut up and drink your hot chocolate,” she says. The look on her face says she might stab him, so he huffs and takes a sip. It scalds his mouth, but it’s exactly how he likes it. Derek kind of hates that a little. “Look,” Erica says. “You were useless when you bit us.”

“Thanks.”

“You were, and you know you were. You were angry, hurting and you didn’t know how to cope with everything.” Erica puts her mug down and hops onto the counter. “You’re better now. You’ve become a functioning werewolf,” she smirks. “We’re all very proud.”

“That doesn’t help me know how to raise a kid.”

“And that’s why you have a pack.” Erica tugs at Derek’s shoulders and he moves over easily, leaning backwards between her legs. She drapes her arms around him and rests her chin on his head. “You’re going to be fine, dumbass.”

There’s no hint of a lie in her voice, and Derek doesn’t know if that makes her optimistic or stupid. At this point, he’ll take either. “Thanks, Erica,” he says, rubbing a hand down her forearm. She makes a humming noise at the back of her throat and taps him on the back of the head with her spoon. His pack shows affection in the strangest ways.

*

When she comes back, Lydia settles into the apartment like she’s been there her whole life. It’s a little scary, and Derek doesn’t dare mention the word nesting to her because he thinks she might hit him if he does. She’s getting frustrated with how clumsy she’s getting, and it gets to the point where she starts accusing Derek of moving furniture because she’s bumping into _everything_. He takes away the pain from the nastier bruises and doesn’t laugh when she bemoans the lack of fashionable sandals this season.

Derek can’t take his eyes off her growing stomach, especially when the temperature starts to rise and she sits around the apartment with her top rolled up. He can’t get over the fact that it’s his kid in there. The last scan told them that it’s a girl, and both Stiles and Boyd have a lot of opinions about the colours the nursery should be painted. Derek doesn’t want to paint the room pink anyway, but listening to the two of them discuss gender roles makes his head hurt and he’s tempted to do it just to annoy them. Isaac brings the discussion to an end by finding a shade of green that reminds Derek of the blanket his mom wrapped him in after his first shift during the full moon.

*

He’s putting the second layer of paint on the walls when Lydia comes into the room absolutely reeking of arousal. Derek puts the roller down and turns around to face her. “Lydia?” he asks cautiously.

“Ugh,” she says, making a face. “You can smell it, can’t you?”

“Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” she says, maneuvering herself into one of the chairs covered with a sheet. “Actually, no. It is your fault. You knocked me up. This is pregnancy horniness.” Lydia slumps back on the chair with a sigh, her hands absently rubbing her stomach.

There’s a moment when Derek considers not saying anything, but he wants to help her through this and so he says “do you want me to do something about that?”, before he can reconsider.

“Uh,” Lydia looks at him with a tired smile on her face. “You don’t have to.”

He rolls his eyes and kneels on the floor beside her, kissing her exposed stomach. “It’s not a hardship, Lydia.”

She’s silent for a long while, one of her hands scratching against his scalp as they sit there. “I don’t want you to feel obligated,” Lydia finally says.

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s not like I’m that attractive right now.”

Derek lifts his head and glares at her. “You—don’t say that.” He rests his hands on her bump, tracing patterns on her skin. “You’re gorgeous like this.”

“I’m always gorgeous,” she says with a small smile, a hand coming down to touch his. “Yeah, okay.”

“Enthusiastic,” he smirks, getting to his feet.

“Like you need to be told you’re hot,” Lydia grumbles, taking the hand he offers to help her out of the chair. He’s surprised when she leans up and kisses his cheek. “You’re a good man, Derek.”

Derek doesn’t know how to respond to that, can only smile and lead her out of the nursery.

*

It’s different to before, he’s too aware of her bump to not be tender, to not treat her like something breakable. Derek strips her clothes off her body, pushes her back against the mattress slowly and hitches her legs up. It might be his heightened senses, but Derek would swear she tastes different, that the pregnancy has changed her body chemistry to the point where he can notice it as he eats her out.

The noises she lets out are softer, not as desperate as before. Lydia’s still Lydia though, and she tries to reach for his head around the bump, swearing when she realises she can’t and it turns to a groan when Derek laughs as he slides two fingers inside her. “Okay?” he says when she goes quiet.

“Yeah, just—”

“What?”

“The baby’s moving,” Lydia laughs. “This is so weird.”

“Want me to stop?” Derek asks, fingers still inside her.

“If you stop, I’ll chop your balls off,” she says. “It’s fine. She doesn’t know what we’re doing.”

Derek ducks his head and flattens his tongue against her clit in response, letting the noises Lydia makes guide him. What she likes has changed with the pregnancy, and it’s almost like the first time again, like learning how to please a new partner. Derek likes to think he’s always been a quick study, and he soon has Lydia’s body shaking as she comes.

“You’re still good at that,” Lydia says, one arm resting against Derek’s shoulders where he’s curled up next to her.

“Want to go again?” he asks, smiling against her skin.

“Get on your back.”

Derek lifts his head to be greeted by Lydia raising an eyebrow at him, a grin on her face. He shrugs and rolls over, watching her curiously. Her movements aren’t as fluid as they used to be, but there’s a grace about her as she moves across the bed, tugging at his underwear until it’s far enough down his legs that he can kick it off.

“Condom?” she says.

“Do we need one?”

“I might already be knocked up, but I am not in any state to risk being knotted by you again,” Lydia says, running her hands up his thighs. “So, yes. Condom.”

She has a point, and he says as much as he takes one out of the drawer, checking the expiry date because, well, it’s been a while. Living with your pregnant sometime fuck buddy doesn’t exactly give many opportunities for casual hook ups. Derek shifts up the bed a little so he can help her climb on him, she’s laughing as she does, a flush spreading up her body and when she looks at him, he gives her a small smile. That goes as soon as she sinks down on him, his mouth drops open and he whines a little at the sight of her above him.

Derek can’t stop his hands from roaming across her skin, touching her legs, her bump, her breasts. She’s barely moving and it’s the most intense feeling he’s ever had. “Do you want me to—” he reaches out and holds her gently where he can, using his strength to move her up and down.

“Oh,” she gasps. “Yeah. Yes.”

It’s torturously slow, Derek doesn’t want to risk hurting Lydia, and he’s also enjoying it. There’s never been a chance for him to fuck like this, like there’s the luxury of time, like it’s something other than two people getting off. This isn’t anything like that, but it’s also not anything more than that. It’s an entirely new experience, and Derek wants to take in every second of it.

The whole room is filled with electricity and Derek’s chest feels heavy with the weight of it. There’s no way to make this last, he’s already gritting his teeth trying to hold off from coming, and it gets harder to do so each time Lydia sinks back down on him. She’s got one hand on the bump as she moves and it’s that, the sight of family, of _pack_ , that finally tips him over the edge.

 _Fuck_ ,” he breathes out, swallowing hard.

“Yeah,” Lydia says. “Just—stay there. _Oh_.”

Derek tilts his head, watching as she expertly brings herself off while he’s still inside her, clenching around him, her thighs trembling. She’s fucking beautiful when she comes, he thinks idly, his hands running down her legs before he lifts her off him with one arm. After getting rid of the condom, Derek leans over her, kissing the tip of her nose. “Want a bath?”

Lydia nods, a tired smile on her face. “Thanks.”

“Of course,” he says, pulling a blanket over her before he heads into the en suite.

*

Once Lydia starts becoming too uncomfortable to leave the apartment unless necessary, it becomes covered in pack members. Derek can’t walk two steps without tripping over Scott and Stiles playing with baby toys, or Boyd discussing the best brand of formula with Isaac. He starts to look forward to the childbirth classes, even with the utter chaos that descends each time Lydia has to leave the house. Derek’s starting to think he’s getting more out of the breathing exercises than she is.

They keep going to the classes up until a week before Lydia’s due date. She says she can’t stand to be one of those pregnant ladies who keep going ‘up until they drop’ and Derek happily agrees. All the mothers to be in the classes keep giving him looks that make him uncomfortable, and he knows they’re all thinking that he’s done exactly what they thought he’d do: knock up a younger woman and ruin her life. Lydia smacks him around the head when he voices that opinion and tells him that if he dares suggest she didn’t have a choice in this, she’ll sprinkle wolfsbane on his toast.

Derek knows better than to mess with a heavily pregnant woman.

*

Derek’s reading the 49ers play by play to the baby with one hand on the bump because she kicks each time he says ‘touchdown’, and whatever Lydia says, it’s not a coincidence. He’s amazed at how strong she feels. Lydia’s less impressed, grunting each time the baby kicks her in the kidneys, and Derek’s trying to keep her comfortable, draining her pain whenever he can. She’s got a pillow and a heating pad tucked behind her back, and a stash of expensive chocolates that Cora sent to her.

Lydia’s biting into one of those chocolates when she suddenly stops, her mouth dropping open and one hand scrambling until it clamps on Derek’s arm.

“What? What is it?”

“I, uh. I think that was a contraction.” It doesn’t take long before she winces again, her grip on Derek’s arm tightening, her breath turning to huffs and— “I really don’t think this baby wants to wait,” she says, her eyes wide. “Where’s the bag?”

“I’ll get it,” he says. “What else do you need?”

“Call Allison?” she asks, leaning forward a little. “Please?”

“I’ll call her when we get there, okay?” Slinging the bag over his shoulder, he helps Lydia up from the couch. “We’ve got to get you in the car.”

Nodding, Lydia leans against him. “And drugs,” she says. “I want the drugs.”

Derek laughs, helping into the elevator. “I’ll make sure you get the drugs.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

*

“How’re you doing, Lydia?” Melissa asks as they get her into a wheelchair.

“Where are the drugs?”

Melissa laughs, patting her shoulder. “We’ll get you the drugs.”

“Soon?”

Lydia’s hand is wrapped around Derek’s, and if she was a werewolf, he’s sure his hand would be broken several times over. “Squeeze as hard as you want,” he says to her as they head down the hallway.

“You think I need your permission for that?” Lydia pants out.

“That’s my girl,” Melissa says with a smirk. “He’s a werewolf, he can take it.”

Derek rolls his eyes, happy to be ganged up on as long as his kid makes it into the world safely. He and Melissa help Lydia up on the bed, and she turns on her side, Derek immediately settling behind her and rubbing her back. “That okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” she says.

They get through a few more contractions before there’s a knock on the door and Allison peeks her head in. “Can I come in?” Derek waves her in and she sits in the chair by the bed, taking Lydia’s hand.

“Hey,” Lydia says.

“Sorry it took me so long, I was in class and had to run out, throwing everything in the car before I came here. How long have you got to go?”

“Melissa said someone will come and give me the drugs soon, so not that long?”

“She’s dilated 6 centimeters,” Derek says absently, rummaging through the bag for a snack.

“Um.” Allison’s face twists in amusement. “Okay.”

“Ignore him,” Lydia says. “He thinks he needs to know about the progress of my cervix. It’s really irritating.”

“Poor baby,” Allison says, stroking Lydia’s hair. “Want me to tie your hair back?”

Lydia nods, staying on her side. “Sit behind me. Can you braid it?”

“Of course.” Allison folds her legs up as she sits on the bed. “There a hairbrush in that bag, Derek?”

Derek finds it and hands it to her, taking a seat in the chair by the bed and holding Lydia’s hand. Allison hums happily as she works out the tangles, separating out three bunches to braid together, pausing whenever a contraction hits Lydia. It’s comforting, watching members of the pack taking care of each other, and he rubs Lydia’s hand, placing a kiss against her knuckles when she makes it through the pain.

Lydia and Allison are making plans for post baby shopping when the anaesthetist comes in to do the epidural. Derek leans by the wall, lets Melissa help hold Lydia steady, and tries not to think about how once Lydia gives birth, she’s going back to her life. They made the agreement, and he knows that’s what Lydia wants, he knows she’s not lying. Something about it still feels wrong to him, that Lydia will be going through all this without getting the end result, without being a mom. Even if he offers the chance, she won’t take it and Derek understands that, he does. Knows she’s giving him an amazing gift.

*

It seems like no time at all before Melissa’s placing a pink, squalling infant in his arms and Derek is totally, completely lost. He looks over at Lydia; she’s exhausted, her body limp and her hair is matted with sweat, but there’s a faint smile on her face as she nods at Derek. Allison’s gone to the apartment to get the baby carrier, the one thing Derek didn’t think about bringing with him when they rushed to the hospital.

“Do you want to hold her?” Derek asks, almost terrified to move with such a delicate being in his arms.

“No.” Lydia wipes a hand under her eyes. “Ugh, baby hormones,” she grumbles. “No. We agreed, remember?”

The baby makes a whimpering noise as she settles, Derek’s attention momentarily captured by her. He lowers his head and inhales her scent, a low rumble in his chest as he straightens up. “You know if you change your mind—”

“I know. Derek, we both know what this was. She’s yours, okay? She’s yours and I’ll be amazing Aunt Lydia.”

Derek hands the baby off to Melissa and walks over to the bed. Perching on the edge, he cups Lydia’s face and kisses her. “You are amazing,” he says, resting his forehead against hers. “Thank you.”

“Take care of her, okay?”

“I promise.”

*

His baby girl is in a hospital crib, and he stares at her through the glass, totally captivated by her. She’s got a shock of dark hair, Lydia’s mouth and her little arms have weaved their way out of the blanket she was swaddled in. Squirming like she’s got infinite energy, Derek wishes he could be in there, holding her, scenting her.

“Which one is she?” Scott asks, coming up behind him and peering through the glass.

“The one wriggling around.”

“She’s cute.”

“She’s amazing,” Derek says in awe.

Scott laughs, shaking his head. “Never thought I’d see you get mushy about a kid.”

“Things change.”

“Yeah,” Scott says, clapping a hand on Derek’s shoulder. “They do.”

*

“What are you going to call her?” Melissa asks him when the baby is ready to leave the hospital.

“Ava,” Derek says, hand brushing against her head as he balances her in his arms.

“Ava Hale,” Melissa says softly. “That’s nice.”

“Thanks.” Derek glances at Melissa and smiles. “Really, thank you. When’s Lydia going home?”

“Later today. Allison’s coming to pick her up.” She squeezes Derek’s arm and leans in to kiss Ava’s head. “You two did well,” she says when she straightens up. “Now, you need anything when it comes to this one, you call me, okay? Nothing prepares you for a baby.”

Derek nods at her before his attention is seized by Ava’s face scrunching up, a high pitched squeal coming out of her mouth, and he’s startled by how quickly his heart speeds up. Switching her position, he rests her against his chest, her head nestled against his shoulder as he gently rocks her. “Shhh, baby, come on.” Derek can’t get over how light she is in his arms, she feels like nothing at all and he’s absolutely petrified he’s going to drop her.

“Is there someone at the apartment, Derek?” Melissa asks, a concerned look on her face.

“Cora going to come home for a few weeks to help out,” he says, swaying a little to keep Ava from crying. “And I don’t think I’ll be able to stop the pack from coming over.”

“Okay. Okay, good. Now, scram. You’ve spent too much time in hospitals. Take your daughter home.”

His daughter. He has a daughter.

 _Fuck_.

*

It’s not until Derek walks into the apartment with Ava in his arms that it really hits him. She’s so tiny, won’t have her full werewolf strength for months yet, and she’s as fascinated by him as he is by her. Ava stares up at him, intensely focused in a way he wouldn’t expect from a newborn. He rubs a hand across her face, smiling when she squirms, noises coming out of her little mouth.

“You hungry?” he asks, tracing a finger down her nose, over her lips and against her chin. “If I put you down are you going to scream?” She stares intently at him, her mouth moving like she wants to eat and Derek sighs. “I guess I’ll take the chance.”

Carrying her over, he straps her into the ridiculously named snugabunny and turns around to start sterilizing the bottle. Despite Boyd’s mom telling him that he should buy a sterilizing machine, Derek’s far happier doing it by hand. There’s something soothing about it, and he has vague memories of watching his mom do it for Cora, so he _wants_ to do it like this, despite how much extra time it will take him.

Ava starts whining as soon as he starts mixing the formula, her senses picking up the smell easily. It’s almost funny how frustrated she gets, how her legs start moving when he finally fills the bottle and lifts her out of the snugabunny. Her mouth latches on, working furiously to suck down as much formula as she can.

The rest of the evening goes smoother than Derek ever imagined. Which is why, when Ava wakes him up screaming at 3 in the morning, he’s not surprised. He kicks the blankets off and picks her up, bouncing her gently and holding her close to him. Lets her pick up his scent, hear his heartbeat, and as he walks around the room, she starts to quiet down. Derek heads over to the window seat and sits down, angles them both so Ava can look out of the window.

The moon is shining into the apartment and Derek rests her against his chest, cradling her bottom with one hand, the other rubbing circles against her back. “Of course you’re a night owl,” he sighs. “My mom told me that we all were. We’d wake her up at all hours and she’d take us outside to look at the moon. I caught her one night, taking Cora outside. She let me come with her, and we sat there all night while my mom told stories,” he glances down at Ava. “She also sang, but I’m not going to try that unless I get really desperate. Trust me when I say you don’t want to hear me do that.”

Ava makes a snuffling noise, her mouth open and her eyes drooping. It’s unbearably cute and Derek grins down at her. “Okay, baby girl. Let’s try this again.” He gets off the window seat and walks back over to temporary travel crib he’s set up in his bedroom until she’s learnt his scent and heartbeat enough to settle in the nursery. Ava goes down easily, and Derek knows he should lie back down, try and get some sleep, but he can’t tear his eyes away from her. He sits by the crib and tentatively strokes her fine hair. “I really love you,” he says quietly. “And I’m absolutely terrified I’m going to fuck this up.”

*

_one year later_

Ava’s sitting on Stiles’ lap as he reads her a story from one of the books Scott bought for her birthday. He keeps interrupting the story to put on his own additions, but judging by Ava’s reactions, she doesn’t mind. Erica keeps trying to grab her attention by waving stuffed animals in her face, but Ava doesn’t bite and Erica gives up eventually, throwing them across the room at Boyd instead.

“She’s beautiful, Derek.” He turns his head towards the doorway, hadn’t even heard Lydia walk into the kitchen.

“She is,” he says, nudging her with an elbow when she comes over to help sort out the food. “We made a cute kid.”

Lydia laughs, flipping her hair over her shoulder before she opens a bag of Popchips and tips them into a bowl. “I thought we would. You’ve done well with her,” she says, picking up the bowl. “You—I made the right choice, having her for you. I’m glad I did it.”

Before she leaves the kitchen, Derek pulls her close and kisses her temple. “You know I love you, right?”

“Back at you,” Lydia says, kissing his cheek, a small smile on her face. “Now, I’m going to take this food out there before hungry werewolves storm the kitchen.”

Derek watches her go before grabbing a plate of pizza rolls and following her out. He puts the plate down on the table and looks around the room, smiling at the sight of Isaac on the floor, holding Ava up in the air. Stiles is placing toys on Isaac’s face and laughing when Ava grabs at them each time Isaac lowers her down. She’s giggling with delight, and when Derek looks over at Scott and Allison, he wonders if it’ll be too long before the pack grows even bigger.

Erica and Cora are playing with Ava’s building blocks as Boyd and Lydia talk about their post grad studies, and Derek’s overwhelmed with how much they’ve grown up. How things have changed for all of them. He sits on the couch and grins at Ava when she looks over, her face lighting up when she sees him.

Isaac reaches over to pass her to him and Derek gladly takes her. She’s starting to have her own scent now, moving on from the combination of him and Lydia, and he kisses the top of her head, inhaling it deeply. Ava squirms on his lap, making frustrated noises and chanting “dada, dada, dada,” at him in protest.

“You want to get down already? I really feel loved, kid.” Derek holds her hands and lets her balance on her feet before he lets go, hands placed close enough to catch her if she falls. They’ve tried this before, but she always stops and turns to look at him instead of walking.

He can see Stiles out the corner of his eye aiming his phone at her, and the whole pack tries not to stare as she takes a few steps. When Ava stops walking, she turns her head to stare at him and Derek grins, scooping her up and kissing her face. “Well done, baby.”

“Dada,” she says, slapping his face with one hand.

Lydia is the first to burst out laughing, and soon the whole pack joins in. Derek tries to glare at them all, but Ava’s hands are pushing at his cheeks, rubbing her fingers against his beard and it’s pointless. He gives in, laughing along with them all, the long lost feeling of family finally filling the apartment.


End file.
